


A Visit to the Pet Shop

by TheOldAquarian



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, GGOSO, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, OC narrator - Freeform, POV Outsider, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Snakes, Sort Of, artistic license in herpetology, in which our narrator is So Done, pet shop, rated T for language and brief suggestive content, the author is vicariously living her childhood dream of owning like 20 lizards and snakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:33:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23259214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOldAquarian/pseuds/TheOldAquarian
Summary: After Aziraphale invites Crowley to move in with him,Scales for Sale,London's premier reptile pet shop and supply store, gets a few interesting visitors.Or, outsider POV from the perspective of one jaded pet store owner and her encounters with the suspiciously supernatural.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 278
Kudos: 1512
Collections: After the Nightingale Sang (Soho's Cryptids), Outstanding Outsider POVs, The Snake Pit, Wickedly Good Omens Fics





	A Visit to the Pet Shop

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to [summerofspock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerofspock/pseuds/summerofspock) for creating the Great Good Omens Snake-Off event! This little fic was so much fun to research and write. 
> 
> This is probably more than obvious, but I feel obliged to state that nothing here is meant to be real information on caring for the reptiles in your life.

Gloria, owner of  _ Scales for Sale, _ London’s premier reptile pet shop and supply store, in a series of emails to her sister.

Encounter No. 1

OK so you know how the other day I was telling you it had been awhile since I got any notable weirdos in the shop? Well, I should really stop talking about the devil, because I think he just put in an appearance.

So first of all this guy spent about five minutes outside leaning on the window and just staring down at poor Jeffrey (the albino burmese python I  _ finally  _ got to eat a thawed mouse on Thursday, hallelujah). I was about to tell him to go away and pick on someone of his own species when he came in for real. He was an older guy but dressed almost aggressively hip, e.g. he had some tassel thing around his neck that should have been lame but was somehow redeemed by bad attitude and good collarbones. He also kept a pair of fancy sunglasses plastered to his face at all times.

I presume if you remove them he slowly dies from lack of coolness.

He walked like his inner ear hates him, which I assume was to show off the super gaudy snake belt he had on, because I can’t imagine that kind of loopy strut is at all comfortable for a normal bipedal human. Right away I was like “this asshole is gonna ask me if I have anything venomous and be pissed that we don’t take Apple Pay.”

But whatever, you get people like that sometimes, the type who think a Mexican king snake may as well be a fancy necklace. I know how to deal with those people. (You remind them of the gory, expensive details. Nobody wants a necklace you have to take to the vet for 25 years. Or, for that matter, a necklace that poops.)

What I didn’t know how to deal with was every reptile in the shop absolutely flipping the fuck out when this guy walked to the counter.

I kid you not every single snake woke up and the entire store collectively threw the hissiest of all possible fits. I mean the  _ axolotl  _ was freaking out. Boris was actually  _ hibernating  _ but I will swear before the angry face of God he poked his head out of his shell and started making a fuss. The absolute strangest thing was that Sunglasses Guy swivelled around and frowned at all the herps and they just stopped all of a sudden like nothing had happened.

He then said to me “Real bad attitude on that python you got there.”

Which was totally insane, and not just because Jeffrey, bless his cold-blooded little heart, has all the attitude of a toasted marshmallow.

So I just ignored that and was like “Welcome to Scales for Sale, sir, are you looking for something in particular?”

“Erm, yeah,” he said. “Have you got any heating mats? I’ve got a pretty large snake that’s going to be, well, spending some time in a different spot than usual where it’s a lot colder.”

Sunglasses Guy wobbled over to where I indicated. (I did wonder at first if he might be drunk, and thought about making a poster like DON’T DRINK AND SKINK for the store, but I’m pretty sure he’s just Like That.) He got distracted halfway there by the snake hides, and picked up a couple to inspect. It was weird because he started putting them on top of his head like he was going to wear them as hats. He didn’t seem satisfied with the selection, and I could have sworn I heard him say “Fuck it, under the sofa’s more comfortable anyway.”

So he got to the heating mats and then pulled a notepad out of his pocket (I assume it was his pocket, anyway—suddenly he was holding a notepad, and it had to come from somewhere).

“How big is a super king mattress?” Sunglasses Guy asked.

I thought that was a truly bizarre way to measure a snake enclosure, but I looked it up on my phone. He bought fourteen heating mats.

When he came to the register I noticed he had a snake tattoo on the side of his face. (Also, I know what you’re thinking, and before you say ‘isn’t inappropriately-older-guy-who-likes-snakes-and-not-people your dream boyfriend’ just SHUT UP ok.) Anyway, I asked if he wanted any enrichment items since we were having a 30% off sale on artificial plants. It didn’t go over well.

“Pfff, gimme a break with ‘enrichment.’ Like a bunch of polyvinyl leaves are supposed to pass for quality home decor these days,” he said.

“Well, they are made for snakes,” I tried to point out. “Snakes aren’t really smart enough to know the difference.”

For some unfathomable reason he looked mortally offended.

“Er, what I mean is, I don’t think a snake is going to take a fake plant as an offense against Heaven, you know?” I tried to clarify.

He had a very unnerving smile. “Oh believe me, I know all about offenses against Heaven,” Sunglasses Guy said. There was an awkward pause and then he added on, “Speaking of, one such offense is my current parking job, so let’s make this checkout quick.”

I was trying to scan the heating mats as fast as possible, but Sunglasses Guy didn’t act like he was in a rush and he took what felt like six thousand years waffling over a copy of Herp World. (He started flipping through, stopped at a picture of a hognose in strike position, and whistled. “God what a twit, that looks like my last employee of the month photo,” he said, which really made me wonder where in hell he used to work.) 

As he left he turned around and pointed to one of the corn snakes. 

“She’s pregnant, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said. “Her mate is that lavender morph over there, the hatchlings are going to be beautiful.”

He looked at the lavender morph, then back to the female corn snake and said “Nice one, he’s cute.”

On his way out he murmured something vaguely threatening at Jeffrey, who slithered into his plastic cave and didn’t come out for the rest of the day.

So yeah, he was no Cockroach Bob but preeeeetty up there on the weird customer scale.

  
  


Encounter No. 2

Oh god, Cockroach Bob has  _ nothing  _ on the man who just came in.

So every once in a while someone shows up and you just KNOW they are a complete disaster and should never be allowed to handle a goddamn aloe plant, let alone a reptile. You know I don’t believe in astrology or ESP or vibes, but sometimes you can just  _ tell  _ that a given person wouldn’t know a milk snake in the grass from a milkshake in the glass. 

And sometimes said person confirms their idiocy for you by sticking their stupid fingers into the snapping turtle pond.

Crackle is well-labeled with DO NOT TOUCH signs all around her. There’s a huge poster that says MS. CRACKLE POP WILL SNAP and another one that says KEEP FINGERS AWAY, all in huge, glittery red letters. But this genius went out of his way to put his hand inside her pool saying “what a lovely girl, aren’t you a blessing.” Reality must have gone temporarily offline, because instead of breaking his fingers like carrot sticks, Crackle just let the guy pet her?? on the head???

To complete the absurdity of this picture, our wannabe Saint Francis was wearing what looked like a regurgitated charity shop strained through an episode of Masterpiece Theatre. It was hard to tell how old he was since he had kind of a boyish face and was acting like he’d never seen a lizard before, but realistically he had to be pushing fifty, and he smelled like a mildewed attic.

I was still wondering whether the literal grace of God had intervened to stop Mr. Clueless Cardigan getting his fingers mauled when he started talking to me.

“Hello my dear girl, I was wondering if you could help me get some supplies for, well, ah, my snake.”

Normally it irks me when people call me ‘girl,’ but it seemed not unlikely that this guy had just TARDISed in from a previous century or alternate dimension, so I just ignored it and gave him directions. Substrate and hides over to the left, tanks straight ahead, mice in the freezer along the back wall, etcetera etcetera.

Clueless Cardigan didn’t move and just smiled at me. If anything about his mannerisms had been half a percent less camp, I might have called next door for backup.

“Would you suggest anything specific to ah, enhance a living space?” he finally said.

I asked him what kind of snake he had.

“Oh you know, it’s one of those wiggly little fellows.” This was accompanied by a thoroughly nonsensical hand gesture.

“What do you feed it?” I asked.

“The best I can do is small bites from my plate if asked  _ very  _ nicely,” Clueless Cardigan sighed. “But I do think he eats on his own, you know, gets into the fridge of a morning.”

I was more than a little alarmed at this point. Seemed likely that the only thing this guy knew about snakes was that Samuel Jackson once wanted them off his motherfucking plane.

“Does your snake have access to clean water?” I asked, trying to see how urgent of a rescue this might be.

“Of course, but he hardly drinks any,” Clueless Cardigan replied.

“Well, if he seems dehydrated you could give him a bath, he’ll drink some of the water. Have you ever given your snake a bath before?”

I have NO idea why on earth this made Clueless Cardigan blush and grin awkwardly at the floor, but it did.

“Erm, yes, indeed—my apologies love, there’s something in my eye.”

There was nothing in his eye. There was, however, something on his neck.

“Gosh, that looks like it bit you pretty hard. Is your snake food-aggressive?”

His hand tapped at the visible snakebite on his neck.

“Oh don’t worry, this was completely consensual,” he said, and hiked up his collar.

“You mean, accidental?” I asked.

He gave another unblinking smile. “Of course, that’s exactly what I said.” It wasn’t at all, but I let it slide because well, kind of an embarrassing mix-up.

“Has the snake been shedding well? No retained bits of skin on the eyecaps?” I wanted to see if he had any clue about providing appropriate humidity.

He clucked his tongue and frowned. “Oh I hardly think it polite to ask him such a personal question,” he said.

That did get a laugh from me, but I was still pretty concerned about this fridge-opening snake of his, and I was relieved when he glanced around the shop and then loudly whispered to me.

“It’s not really my snake, actually, it, er, belongs to someone else, and they’ve been taking  _ excellent  _ care of it, but I’m going to be, well, looking after it in my home soon, and I’ve been informed by its owner that my flat is ‘literally less ventilated than Hell,’ so I suppose I’ve got some work to do to make it a bit more habitable.”

I ended up writing up some instructions and recommendations, and he bought no fewer than four books on basic reptile care, so I felt slightly better about letting him out of the shop again. Slightly.

  
  


Encounter No. 3

Remember when I said you were crazy when you suggested that Sunglasses Guy and Clueless Cardigan knew each other?

Yeah I hate to say it, but maybe mum was right and I  _ should  _ listen to you more often. 

I was checking on the snakes in brumation at the back of the shop when I heard a stream of Oxbridge-accented pleasantries and realized Clueless Cardigan was back.

“Enjoyed your reading?” I asked him. 

“Oh yes, thank you ever so much. The sections on handling a squirming snake were most illuminating.” He cleared his throat conspicuously. “I was wondering if you could suggest a heating mat for a rather large species. I’m afraid I’m in a bit of a rush, I’m due to meet a dear friend for lunch.” And then of course he pulled out an honest-to-God pocket watch like he was the fucking White Rabbit.

I was about to show him where they were when the door banged open and a chorus of frenzied hissing started up like the world’s reddest flag. Yep, it was Sunglasses Guy Episode II: Return of Sunglasses Guy. 

“Oy, angel, is that you?” he yelled out.

For a second I had no idea who he was addressing, but then Clueless Cardigan just lit up like someone had switched on his personal halo.

“Crowley?” he asked. “What are you doing here, dear? It’s fifteen til lunch.” 

“Saw your coat through the window,” Sunglasses Guy—Crowley—said, in a strangely soft voice. “Nobody else dresses like it’s still the 1850s, Aziraphale.”

I was about to interject that he clearly hadn’t met my landlady when Aziraphale spoke up.

“I see you weren’t kidding about your effect on other snakes,” he said to Crowley.

To this day I have no clue what ‘other snakes’ was supposed to mean.

“Oh right, yeah, sorry,” Crowley apologized, and after he snapped his fingers every living thing in the store fell completely silent again. “Angel, why are you here?” He looked all of a sudden like someone had stabbed him with a jagged knife.  _ “Are you buying another snake?” _

“Oh my dear,  _ no, _ ” Aziraphale said, and he reached up to hold Crowley’s face, “I just—well I don’t think my flat is very comfortable, and I know I told you no hellfire near the books, so it must be terribly drafty, and I wanted to make sure it would be a nice place for—”

—and that’s where he got cut off by Crowley pulling him into what I  _ think  _ was a kiss but looked a bit like one of the pythons trying to swallow its dinner with more enthusiasm than finesse.

Unlike a thawed rat, Aziraphale at least seemed to be enjoying the process of being devoured face-first. At least, that’s what I assumed based on the way he wrapped his arms around Crowley’s neck and made a noise I wish I couldn’t remember.

“Erm, gentlemen, please watch the geckos,” I said, trying to bring them back to earth.

They abruptly lurched into a more upright position, and Aziraphale at least had the grace to look abashed. Crowley, whose too-cool-for-mere-mortals expression had been completely wiped away, was smiling like he’d just seen the actual gates of Paradise and trying to gently tug Aziraphale out of the shop.

“My dear girl, I am so sorry,” Aziraphale said. “I’m afraid, ah, lunch calls, but I hope you have a marvellous day.” Then they left for “lunch,” thank all applicable powers that be. 

Luckily, no geckos were harmed during the making of whatever the hell that was.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this! If you enjoyed it, you'll probably like my other outsider POV fic, [Anthony J. Crowley, Retired Demon and Airbnb Superhost](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21723022).
> 
> Or, if you want full-length silliness, try [In Mixed Company, or the Corporate Retreat of Heaven and Hell](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22309822/chapters/53287501).
> 
> Snakes mentioned in this fic include the [adorable hognose](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Western_Hognose_Snake_by_Trisha.jpg), the lovely [Mexican black kingsnake](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Baby-mexican-black-kingsnake.png), and the [famous Burmese python](https://kids.nationalgeographic.com/content/dam/kids/photos/animals/Reptiles/A-G/burmese-python-tree.ngsversion.1411653348600.adapt.1900.1.jpg).


End file.
